Russia got off immediately once he arrived, not even bothering to park his car. Someone opened the door a few seconds after he pressed the bell, but he didn't care who that was. He stormed straight to his destination, the basement.
“You told me it would work!” Russia shouted hysterically.
The person obviously did not hear it, after a while, realising the presence of the nation, the sound of wood sawing died down.
“You told me it would work! Now he ran away from me!” Russia cried.
The man put his woodsaw down, without turning to him. “Mm.”
“What was that supposed to mean, Sweden? You are going to be getting my wife back for me!” Russia whined, it sounded more like a desperate attempt to seek help.
Sweden wiped his hands with a clean towel, back still to Russia. Calmly, he asked, “Ya sure ya did ev'rything I told ya?”
“Da! Of course I did!” Russia made two steps forward, reassuring him that he had followed every instructions the Swede gave him.
“Mm. Weird. 't worked fer me. What did ya do?” The Nordic finally turned to him, shrugging.
“I got a polar bear as a pet, I got enough people to match his family, younger ones for him to take care of. I even got Belarus to smile! He came and had dinner with us, things were going great until I asked him to be my wife!” Russia pouted, trying to recall every step he took and to find out the mistakes he might have made. Still, nothing wrong came to his mind.
Sweden sighed. “In that order?”
“Da. I figured it's the best to have everything ready for him first!” Russia explained as if it was a matter of course.
The Swede shook his head, taking a seat. “'t won't do. Who 're ya up to anyway?”
“Well China of course!”
Sweden shut his eyes tight, leaning his forehead on his palm. “Ya gotta choose the hardest one, don't ya?”
“What... what do you mean?”
Sweden sighed again, gesturing Russia to sit down. “China's way too experienced, too sharp. He can see through these things easily.”
Starting to panic, Russia grabbed the edge of the table. “But... It worked on Finland?”
“Things... were different back then. And we grew up with each other.” The Swede pushed his glasses up.
“I don't care. I need China to be my wife.” Russia leaned forward, hitting his palms on the table.
“Well,” Sweden mimicked Russia's movement and stared at him through his glasses, “then ya shouldn't 've messed up the order.”
Before Russia could reply, Sweden added, “But even then, I don't think a person like China would've fallen for that. That man is too prideful and cautious.”
Russia was obviously impatient, “Then what should I do? He knows my plan now! There's no way he would listen to me anymore!”
Sweden stayed in silence for a while, analysing the situation. “Finland.”
Confused, yet Russia saw a small sign of hope. “What?”
“I'll ask Finland to talk to China.” If there was one person who could open someone up, it got to be his cheerful, sweet wife.
“Finland? Does China even know him?” Russia liked the idea, but was still unsure.
“'m sure they've met when Fin's delivering presents on Christmas.”
